Subject: Lyr Add: BEHIND THOSE SWINGING DOORS (F Allan)
From:
Jim Dixon
Date: 10 Mar 10 - 12:09 PM
This is exactly what I hear on the recording at YouTube by Spike Jones & His City Slickers (with vocal by Del Porter?), which evidently comes from either RCA Victor 20-2507 (b/w SHEIK OF ARABY) or Bluebird # 11282 (recorded 8/8/41, b/w RED WING). Attribution and publication data is from WorldCat.
BEHIND THOSE SWINGING DOORS
Words and music by Fleming Allan
Hollywood, Calif.: American Music Inc., ©1938.
1. 'Twas Saturday night in an old mining town.
Jake's barroom was merry and gay,
While far from the laughter, a mother did wait
For Pop to come home with his pay.
"What's keeping dear Father? Why doesn't he come?"
The daughter exclaimed through her tears.
The mother replied, "I'm sadly afraid
Your father has stopped for some beer.
CHORUS: "Oh—oh, the doors swing in; the doors swing out,
Where some pass in and others pass out.
Your father, I fear, has his nose in the beer,
Behind those swinging doors, behind those swinging doors."
2. "Oh, I shall go fetch him," the daughter declared.
"He sha'n't bring disgrace to our name."
Then straightway she ran to the corner saloon
To save her poor father from shame.
"Dear Father, dear Father, come home with me now.
The clock in the steeple strikes two.
Dear Mother is waiting. The rent must be paid.
Don't spend all your money for brew."
CHORUS: Oh—oh, the doors swing in; the doors swing out,
Where some pass in and others pass out.
Through the smoke and the haze, there stood Pop in a daze,
Behind those swinging doors, behind those swinging doors.
3. Each Saturday night at the corner saloon,
The miners come in with their gold,
And Father blows in all his wages for gin,
And Nelly blows home in the cold.
"Dear mother," she wailed, "my mission I've failed.
My father will ne'er mend his ways."
The mother exclaimed, "We'll suffer the shame.
It's always the woman who pays."
CHORUS: Oh—oh, the doors swing in; the doors swing out,
Where some pass in and others pass out.
This story is told of a fool and his gold,
Behind those swinging doors, behind those swinging doors.
|
sj
